Forbidden by Susan Johnson (best feel good books txt) 📗

these situations, but perhaps if you spoke to her without involving her family's law firm, she could express her wishes privately. I'm amenable to any of her requests, save one."

The Duc was reticent as most of his class was, Bourges noted about his privacy. He had the distinct feeling that had the Duc been able to avoid this meeting today he would have, and while he found that refinement well-bred and mannerly, in the coming negotiations for divorce with an unwilling wife, the Duc's commitment to good breeding would be tested. As an initial warning, Felicien said, "This could be very costly, in terms of property and amiability both. You're aware of that."

"I'm hoping your expertise will preserve the latter—such as it is between Isabelle and myself. I don't care about the property."

"You're willing to accede to any of her demands? It isn't necessary, of course. The law is more protective of your property rights than your wife's. Provided we can overcome any judicial maneuvering her family may interpose. Her family, you realize, is her greatest asset."

"My greatest obstruction, you mean."

"With her brother as Minister of Justice and her cousin, Archbishop of Paris, her support unfortunately is strategic. Now if Montigny was Minister of the Interior or Trade—" he shrugged, "the judges wouldn't be so apt to do his bidding."

"But since they're appointed…"

"An unfortunate situation."

"I suggest you speak first to Isabelle." Etienne hesitated. "If she'll see you." His lashes lowered fractionally. "I'm sorry. Isabelle is a member of an ancien régime family that resists the reality of the Revolution."

"And their wealth has insulated them from that necessity." Bourges's voice was touched lightly with sarcasm. "In any event, I'll attempt to make an appointment, Monsieur le Duc."

Felicien had dealt with nobles of Isabelle's reactionary persuasion before so his request for an appointment with the Duchesse de Vec was made with her secretary, his motive discreetly veiled with a charity function the Duchesse was known to lend her name to.

She was standing at her desk when he was shown into her reception room two mornings later, an imperious figure despite her petite dimensions. "I didn't realize, Monsieur Bourges, the Convent of the Carmelites had retained you." Her inflection implied they'd better have a cogent reason for doing so, as must he for presuming to bother her. "I'm not here for the Dames Carmelites." While she was reaching for the bell-pull, he added, "Monsieur le Duc has authorized me to offer you your choice of his properties."

Avarice stayed her hand. "I already have his properties."

"Not precisely, Madame le Duchesse. Not in legal terms." By law the Duc was sole administrator of his property as well as the Duchesse's dotal property. Felicien moved a step closer to the desk; they were separated by a dozen feet now and each took the other's measure.

His tailor was Kriegck. Apparently he was wealthy from defending the merchants of Paris. He wore his hair long like an actor, and then, with the presumption of her class, her eyes fell to his fingernails.

"No dirt, Madame," Felicien said with a control developed after years of being scrutinized by wealthy people intellectually inferior to him. "It was all left behind at Loire-et-See. And my valet is meticulous." He had never been this close to her before, although they occasionally frequented the same social gatherings. She seemed smaller at close range, extremely well-kept, and with the eyes of a predator.

"The dirt is never left behind, Monsieur Bourges." All his successes and hard work dismissed by her in one brief statement. "You may inform the Duc your visit was wasted. The Montignys do not divorce." This time she pulled on the bell-rope with vigor.

The Duchesse de Vec was the paradigm for all he found most reprehensible in the aristocracy. Arrogant, rude, with a disrespect for those born outside the rarefied enclaves of ancien regime families bred into them from the cradle; they truly believed in divine rights for themselves and their class.

"I suggest you obtain counsel, Madame le Duchesse." His gaze swept the gilded room, decorated as her intimate reception salon, large enough in reality to house a dozen families. "In order," he added with a cool smile, "to insure you retain at least this property." He knew how to bow; he'd paid for the best instructors in all forms of social graces, but he didn't bow to the Duc's wife. In fact, for the first time in years he allowed his anger to show. "The Duc is most anxious to divorce," he said, a rage he'd thought long vanished prompting him, "so tell Letheve we will be proceeding with dispatch."

Isabelle had seated herself at her desk, her interest focused on writing as though Bourges no longer existed. If she'd heard him she didn't respond; she seemed actually not to have heard him at all.

How had the Duc tolerated the woman for so long, Felicien wondered, turning at a small sound, to see a footman holding the door open for his departure. She seemed without charitable qualities.

His anger remained, an odd and residual survivor from his long-ago past, well beyond his morning call. Even late that night, after hours of diversion in the intricate legalities he found so satisfying, after dinner and the theater, the skeleton of memory remained. She had made him feel desperately poor again. Unequal. Beneath her notice.

The Duchesse de Vec had made an ardent enemy.

Two days later the Duc received a visit from his brother-in-law Charles. It wasn't unexpected; Bourges had initiated the petition with both dispatch and zeal.

The Duc welcomed Charles into his study at the Quai du Louvre apartment, offered him a cognac, and when they'd both been served and the footman departed, their casual conversation came to an end.

"Speak up, Charles," Etienne said, his smile pleasant. "We've know each other long enough to be frank."

"You presented your petition to the President this morning."

It was the first step in bringing the action before the court. Etienne had presented his petition in person,